


come as you are (as you were)

by silverfoxflower



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Doppler Jaskier, Dopplers (The Witcher), First Time, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29586681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: “Who are you wearing?” Geralt asked, as the Bard followed him out of Posada.“Oh,” Jaskier laughed. “You noticed, did you? Just as expected from a Witcher.” He smoothed the collar of his tunic. “I believe he was a Viscount or somesuch near Lettenhove … long dead now, though I have no great interest in traveling back there. Wouldn’t want to give some poor kid a scare, seeing the face of his long-dead relative.”“Hm,” Geralt said. It didn’t worry him that the doppler would make mischief, as he seemed well-intentioned enough. The bigger mystery was still why he chose to follow Geralt.“I’ve been wearing him so long, sometimes I forget that I’m not human,” Jaskier said cheerfully, his fingers tapping on his lute. “Then a pretty noblewoman strokes my face with her fingers full of silver rings and … hooboy. That was not a good night.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 314





	come as you are (as you were)

“Who are you wearing?” Geralt asked, as the Bard followed him out of Posada.

“Oh,” Jaskier laughed. “You noticed, did you? Just as expected from a Witcher.” He smoothed the collar of his tunic. “I believe he was a Viscount or somesuch near Lettenhove … long dead now, though I have no great interest in traveling back there. Wouldn’t want to give some poor kid a scare, seeing the face of his long-dead relative.”

“Hm,” Geralt said. It didn’t worry him that the doppler would make mischief, as he seemed well-intentioned enough. The bigger mystery was still why he chose to follow Geralt.

“I’ve been wearing him so long, sometimes I forget that I’m not human,” Jaskier said cheerfully, his fingers tapping on his lute. “Then a pretty noblewoman strokes my face with her fingers full of silver rings and … hooboy. _That_ was not a good night.”

–

Though dopplers lived within human societies, they still often struggle with their social mores. Jaskier was a magnet for trouble, but there was rarely maliciousness in his actions. Rather, it was his curiosity and earnestness that made him ever the target of misfortune. 

It was, perhaps, why Geralt found that he just couldn’t leave him alone.

“Think with your _brain_ for once, not your prick!” Geralt shouted, gritting his teeth as he fended off the blades of a very angry Lord and his very well-armed guards. 

Jaskier paused in clambering out the window. “But she _asked_ , Geralt. And nicely.” 

Geralt would have rolled his eyes if a sword hadn’t swung for his shoulder at that moment, forcing him to dodge quickly out of the way, elbowing a vase off the desk that shattered loudly. 

Jaskier continued counting off on his fingers. “It felt good for her. It _certainly_ felt good for me. Honestly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about-” 

Geralt lunged for the window, grabbing Jaskier’s collar and yanking him after like a misbehaving kitten. It was well-timed that they fell face-first into a passing cart. It was unfortunate that the cart was filled with rotting vegetables and other garbage. 

“Bleaugh!” Jaskier sputtered, spitting out a carrot peel as the enraged shouts of the Lord continued above them. 

“Learn to fucking say _no_ , Jaskier,” Geralt grunted, picking the rotten onions from his hair. 

–

“You’re quite good at gwent,” the dangerous-looking man said, leaning over the table.

“Well, yes,” Jaskier said happily, sweeping up his winnings. “I’ve practiced a lot, you know.” 

“ _Too good_ , one might say,” the man narrowed his eyes.

“I hope you’re not implying that I’m a cheat,” Jaskier scowled. Geralt saw the man’s hand drop to the knife at his belt and kicked the back of his chair, jarring him. When the man turned to Geralt with a snarl, Geralt returned his hard gaze and shook his head minutely. 

The man’s hand dropped from his side and he stalked away. 

“I really didn’t cheat,” Jaskier turned to Geralt, his brow furrowing. 

“I know,” Geralt said. It didn’t make him happy either, that he could only best Jaskier one in ten games. Fortunately, Jaskier was more than generous with his winnings. “Now let’s get some fucking ale.” 

–

While Jaskier was _rarely_ malicious, that didn’t mean that he was entirely without fault. 

“What do you think?” Jaskier asked. Geralt did a double-take to see his friend wearing a different face. He so seldom changed that Geralt … well, tended to forget he wasn’t human.

This face had a narrow, fox-like structure, a sly smile and neatly groomed facial hair that came to a point. 

“Uh,” Geralt said. “You look good.” 

Jaskier immediately scowled. “No, Geralt! I look _ugly_ , like an ugly hack of a Cidarian Bard!” 

“Oooooh,” Geralt said. “You’re Valdo Marx.” He blinked. “Why?”

“Why to cause mischief, of course,” Jaskier rubbed his chin, “now, what crime would get a man wanted across several countries, hopefully punishable by castration and/or death?” 

“ _No_ ,” Geralt said, standing abruptly to rush after Jaskier as he wandered from the room. “No! _What did the man even do to you?_ ” 

–

A feminine cry and a slap rung out across the room. 

Geralt snapped his eyes to see Jaskier walking towards him, nursing a reddened cheek. “What is it this time?” Geralt asked tiredly. He had _just_ paid for his ale, dammit. 

“I said no, like you told me to,” Jaskier said sullenly. “I just can’t win, it seems.” 

“I applaud you for learning restraint,” Geralt said, happily reaching for his ale. “Wait.” He turned his head to see the lady cross the tavern in a huff. “That’s the Widow Allova. I never said you couldn’t sleep with _her_.” 

“You didn’t give any specifics, from what I remember,” Jaskier said pertly, sitting down and reaching for a piece of bread from Geralt’s plate. 

Geralt swallowed his ale, thinking. To his memory, Jaskier hadn’t disappeared with a woman in a while. He hadn’t even noticed until now. 

“That was six months ago,” Geralt said slowly, “You haven’t … _anyone …_ since then?”

“Don’t look at me like _that_ , Geralt,” Jaskier said, his voice aggrieved. “You know I simply can’t parse the strange specifications of your requests. You say, Jaskier you may bed the ones you like and say no to the ones you do not like, and I do, but then you say, no, no not _that_ one-” his ranting lapsed into Elder, the way it did sometimes when he was especially agitated. 

_This is probably not the time to tell Jaskier about letting women down easy_ , Geralt thought. He felt a little guilty about being the cause of Jaskier’s distress, but in truth the past six months had been a little smoother than usual. No jumping from windows or running from angry husbands. Nary an accusation of public indecency, even. 

And … there was a strange, shameful satisfaction to monopolizing all of Jaskier’s attention. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt asked slowly. “What would you say if I asked you to bed … _me_?

Jaskier abruptly halted his tirade, narrowing his eyes at Geralt. “Is this a trick?”

“No,” Geralt said hurriedly. “Forget I asked.” 

“I would say yes,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “If I could. If it wouldn’t make you angry with me.” 

“Why would it make me-” Geralt pressed his palms against his face, feeling the height of foolish. “Would you say yes because … because you like me?” 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt’s hands away from his face. “Because I am very fond of you. Because I believe we can enjoy each other quite well. I have seen your body, and-” 

Geralt stood abruptly, his half-filled tankard all but forgotten. “Let’s continue this in the room.” 

–

Geralt was careful to take off his silver medallion before pulling Jaskier into bed. When he turned back, Jaskier had changed into a dazzlingly beautiful woman with copper hair and mischievous green eyes. Remarkably like the Widow Allova, in fact. 

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt said, “I just want … you.” 

Jaskier’s eyes softened, and he shifted back to his familiar form. “They _are_ all me, darling. Though I am glad you enjoy this form. It is my favorite, after all.” 

Geralt kissed him until they were breathless, rolled him onto the bed and clumsily undressed them both. “Maybe another time,” he muttered against Jaskier’s mouth. “For the … breasts.” 

Jaskier laughed brightly, his arms wound tight around Geralt’s shoulders. 

–

“What would you say,” Geralt murmured against Jaskier’s sheet-covered thigh, which was quite a comfortable pillow, all things considered, “if I asked you to bed only me?” 

Did dopplers have a concept of monogomy? Perhaps that was lapse in communication when it came to sleeping with married women. 

Jaskier hummed, running his fingers through Geralt’s hair. “To stay by your side, I had already resigned myself to no bedding whatsoever for the foreseeable future, so this is really an improvement to be honest.” 

Geralt groaned, pressing his face against Jaskier’s knee. Perhaps one day he could broach the topic of _love_ or _commitment_ to Jaskier, topics he sang ardently of, but which he confessed in private he never truly understood. 

For now, though, this was good enough. 

“I can’t read your reaction, but no matter,” Jaskier bent down to press a kiss to the shell of Geralt’s ear. “Now I know a guaranteed way to sweeten your temperament.” 

Geralt turned and pulled Jaskier to lay beside him, swallowing his laughter with a kiss.

Okay. More than good. 

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](https://greyduckgreygoose.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic)


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